


It's a Secret No One Knows

by Dresupi



Series: Quicktaser Fics [16]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, I will probably come back to this, Implied Sexual Content, Kissing, Meet-Ugly, Pietro Maximoff Lives, Pietro is a little shit, Post-Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Prompt Fill, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-20
Updated: 2016-10-20
Packaged: 2018-08-23 13:18:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8329378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dresupi/pseuds/Dresupi
Summary: Where first impressions can be detrimental.  And it takes some people longer to warm up to their soulmates than others.  Especially when both people are arrogant little spitfires.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [starfishdancer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/starfishdancer/gifts).
  * Inspired by [write love on my skin](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1835587) by [amusewithaview](https://archiveofourown.org/users/amusewithaview/pseuds/amusewithaview). 



> This feels-monster was written to fulfill my last 90's song prompt, given to me by thestarfishdancer, "Since you made me ship it, Quicktaser for MMMBop and the 90s challenge. Because you should get to have double the fun with that one!" 
> 
> Muahaha, I'm so glad I made you ship them! :D <3 
> 
> Link to the song [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NHozn0YXAeE), Hanson, 1997.

Pietro KNEW he didn’t like her from the minute he laid eyes on her.  Well…to be fair, his opinion of Darcy had been formed long before he ever saw her.   But it was definitely _cemented_ the minute he laid eyes on her.

He’d been getting her emails and mass texts ever since he’d become an official member of the team.  Which was a couple of months later than everyone else, due to the injuries he’d sustained in Sokovia.  As soon as he was sitting upright, Wanda had dropped off the Starkphone that Tony issued to every member of the team. And the second he turned the thing on, he was bombarded with all the backlog of emails and texts he’d missed while he’d been recovering.  After the initial batch, he was treated a couple times daily to texts and emails from one Darcy K. Lewis.  

If there was one thing Pietro hated more than anything, it was being reined in.  And according to Tony, that’s what Darcy was for.  Reining them all in.  She was responsible for booking their flights, obtaining permits and lining up their publicity.  Tony made it sound like such a great thing.

Darcy was the symbol of the bureaucracy Pietro hated so very much.  Because heroes such as him, such as the rest of the Avengers…heroes didn’t NEED reining in.  They went where their help was needed the most and they fucking helped people.  They didn’t _need_ permission to do good things.  

Wanda always chuckled at him when he started in on his rant about SHIELD.  About how they were ruining it with all the rules.  

“What you are describing…is a vigilante.  And those are generally frowned upon…” His sister shook her head and pushed his phone back towards him.  “Just fill out Darcy’s survey.  She wanted to know things about you so she can better assist you.  She’s really quite helpful. And nice. I really like her.”

“Why does she want my shoe size?  My waist size?” he asked, alarmed.  

Wanda rolled her eyes.  “So she can buy you shoes.  And clothes.”  

“Why can’t I fucking do it myself?”  

“Because you’ll be training.  You have to catch up to where the rest of us are.  You won’t have time to buy things. Or to zip off to steal them either.”  

Bah.  His sister knew him too well.

“I don’t want some strange woman buying me clothes.”  

Wanda reached over to pat his shoulder.  “Give it a few days.  She won’t be so strange anymore.”  

But Pietro was nothing if not stubborn.  

So, when he finally got to go meet this Darcy Lewis, this mysterious woman who was meddling and pushing into his life.  Buying him bags of clothes that showed up in his hospital room on the day he was finally leaving the unit.  Everything down to underwear.  (Which fit really well, something he’d never really been able to achieve on his own, so he was even MORE distrusting of this woman than he was before.)  When he finally got to go meet her?  He wasn’t exactly what anyone would call friendly.  

He’d zipped into her office, nearly knocking over a chair because he wasn’t in the best control of his powers still.  

She looked up from her desk, her blue eyes wide and piercing.  She put down her tablet and stylus, folding her hands and opening her mouth to speak.  

And she would have spoken, except Pietro didn’t give her the chance.    “I don’t need a damn babysitter.”  

She blinked, taken aback.  In fact, she looked positively awestruck, which made him preen just a little.  Obviously, he was better at this whole taking charge thing than he thought he was.  

Of course, it only took him a few seconds and a sentence from her lips to understand what had Darcy looking so awestruck.  

“Well, if you weren’t acting like such a baby, I wouldn’t have to sit on you.”  

His heart leapt into his throat.  

His words.  

She spoke his words.  The words he’d had written along his bicep for as long as he could remember.  In bubbly script, with hearts dotting the I’s.  

His mouth hung open for a few seconds before he thought to close it.  “You said my words,” he said quietly, pressing his lips together.  

“Small world.  You said mine,” was her terse response.  

“I still don’t need a damn babysitter.”  

“Yeah?  Well, keep it up and I will literally sit on you, Pietro Maximoff.”  

He set his jaw.  He still didn’t like her.  Soulmate or no.  He did NOT like Darcy Lewis.

* * *

 

It wasn’t long before everyone at the compound knew about Pietro and Darcy and their snarky soulmarks.  

Darcy wasn’t exactly thrilled by their first meeting.  She wasn’t thrilled nor was she impressed.  He was a jerk.  He didn’t even thank her for her awesome shopping skills or her helpful emails and textual reminders.  This job was fucking hard.  And Pietro Maximoff single handedly made it harder.  

Where everyone else was nice and polite and thanked her for her help.  Pietro took and ran.  He grabbed and bolted.  He nipped and zipped.  

And no matter what kind of first meeting they had, no matter how much she tried to tell herself that she didn’t care…it fucking hurt every time he did it.  

It felt like a rejection.  

Probably because it _was_ a rejection.  And while Darcy was definitely not the wilting flower type who sat back and took it when someone jerked her around, she couldn’t get a word IN with this guy.  He was too slippery.  He never spent a second longer in her presence than he had to.

She was 100% done with it.  So what if their souls were cut from the same cloth?  She would rather be alone than have to spend eternity with that douche canoe.    

The clincher was Tony’s birthday.  

She’d done an amazing job with all the planning, if she did say so herself.  There were cars waiting outside to take everyone to the venue.  It was an outdoor affair and the weather was set to be perfect.  There was going to be dancing and seven different caterers.  In short, it was the shindig of the season and anybody who was anybody was going.  

She was walking into the Avengers complex, her heels clicking on the tiled floor as she approached the common area where they were all waiting for her go ahead.  And that’s when she heard it.  

The only other time any of his words had garnered such a strong reaction from her was when he spoke the ones she had tattooed on her inner thigh.  Of course, _that_ reaction had been somewhat positive.  Hopeful.  Giddy, even.  Naive.  

“Look.  I don’t CARE if she’s my soulmate, she’s the last person in the world I would ever willingly spend time with.  So _drop_ it, Barton.”  

She closed her mouth immediately, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing she heard him.  

It would have been easier if everyone else hadn’t been there.  

“Maximoff,” Steve barked, narrowing his eyes. “That’s not any way to speak to your—”  

Darcy raised her hand in the air to silence him, shaking her head.  The last thing she wanted right now was for Steve to chastise Pietro and force some nicety out of his unwilling, uncouth, and absolutely enormous mouth.   “Cars are here, ladies and gents,” she said weakly, squaring her shoulders and turning on her heel to walk to the door.  

Her cheeks felt hot and as much as she wanted to form a cutting retort and blast it back at Pietro before he got into one of the cars, she had to concentrate all of her brain power on NOT clawing his stupid eyes out.  Because fuck him.  Fuck him with a brick sideways.  She was a catch.  And he was an asshole.  He would be so lucky to spend time with her.  She had precious little free time.  And she’d be damned if she was going to spend any more of it even _thinking_ about Pietro Maximoff.

Wanda reached out to touch her, to clasp her hand briefly before she climbed into her car.  Vision glided in after her.  

Darcy wanted to burst into tears from embarrassment.  

But she didn’t.  She simply made sure everyone got into the cars.  She purposefully ignored Pietro.  Pretending she couldn’t feel his gaze boring into the back of her head as she double checked security credentials with each driver, making sure everyone was going to be headed in the right direction.  

Pietro was still standing there when she ducked out of the second to last car.  The backseat of which held Wanda and Vision, with a spot for Pietro as well.  

She turned to look at him, contemplating just going on with her business as usual.  But she couldn’t.  She couldn’t bring herself to talk to him yet.  She wanted to duck into the last car, lock the doors and knock back a glass of bubbly before she got to the party and had to act like everything was fine.  Like her soulmate didn’t hate her and wasn’t currently treating her like a pariah, complete with skin lesions and a persistent cough.  Pietro would figure things out soon enough. He was a clever boy.  

So she just walked past him.  Tossing her purse into the backseat of the car and beginning to climb inside.  His hand on her door startled her.  

“Oh!” she frowned, looking up at the car in front of them.  “You’re riding with Vision and Wanda.”  

“Who’s riding with you?”  

She smirked.  “No one.”  

“I can ride with you,” he offered.  An offer that up until ten minutes before, she’d be all over.   

She had to take a breath.  To refrain from screaming at him.  Because she wanted to scream at him. “No.  That won’t be necessary.  It was always the plan for you to ride with Vision and Wanda.” Saying it now sounded slightly passive aggressive, but Darcy was long past caring.  She just wanted him to shut up and go away.  

“No one else is riding three to a car.”  

“Yeah?  Well go tell Vision to hop on back here with me, then.”  

Pietro’s jaw twitched and he looked down at his shoes.  “You don’t want to ride with me.”  

“Why would I?”

“Darcy, I’m—”  

She shook her head.  “No.  No you’re not.  Whatever you’re about to say?  It’s a lie, because you’re not.  And regardless of what you think?  Or whatever?  It was never the plan for you to ride with me.  I ride on my own to these things.  Because I’m working.  I’m always FUCKING working.  So no.  I don’t want you to ride with me.  And I never did.  And honestly, it’s looking like I never will.  So please.  If things are too crowded in your car, send Vision back here to ride with me.  Or fucking run to the party, I don’t even give a shit anymore. Just do me a huge favor and never EVER talk to me again.”  

He bit his lip, running his hand through his hair.  “That’s going to be difficult with you arranging my schedule.”  

She pressed her lips together, reaching into her purse to pull out her phone.  She swiped through until she got to Pietro’s contact information. She tapped a little harder than she should.  Like erasing his contact information and scheduling would somehow erase the actual man from existence or something.  “There.  I’m not any more.  Arrange it your damn self. And then…just for laughs, go jump up your own ass and die.”  

She yanked the car door from him, slamming it closed.  

He swore.  She heard it.  It was loud.  Loud enough to make the tears begin to prick behind her eyelids again.  She didn’t want to think about how she was getting through this party tonight.  

* * *

 

Darcy hadn’t been kidding when she said they’d never speak again.  

Pietro was tripping over himself trying to get her to notice him.  She’d blocked him from her email and social media accounts and when he tried to call her on the number she’d given him, he was either sent straight to voicemail, or referred to another agent.  

He hadn’t meant for her to hear him say those awful words.  He hadn’t thought about it, if he was being honest.  It wasn’t something he wanted to do. To hurt her like that.  And the second he looked at her face, he regretted everything.  It felt like he was being stabbed.  With an icy dagger.  Repeatedly.  

It hurt.  And he was sad.  And mad.  He longed to make her feel better.  So _he_ could feel better.  

Because if he was in a bad mood before?  He didn’t know what to call whatever this was now.  

He’d give anything to go back in time and _not_ say those things.  

Steve had chastised him the whole night of Tony’s party.  Telling him to apologize.  To try harder to apologize.  He even offered to go get Darcy, to ask her to hear him out.  

But Pietro knew it would only make her more angry.  

And he couldn’t stand her being more angry at him than she was now.  He could barely withstand her anger now.  She wouldn’t even look at him.  

Wanda told him it was part of the soulmate bond.  He and Darcy had a weak bond, a NEW bond.  Fledgling. Only just forged.  And now there was a crack.  And a crack in a weak bond?  It hurt just as much as a crack in a strong one.  If Pietro was hurting, Darcy was hurting just as much.  

And that knowledge…well…it made him yearn for her even more.  He just wanted to make it better.  To fix what he’d broken. He’d been concentrating so hard on not giving in to that pull he felt towards her, the pull he’d felt since he heard his words coming out of her mouth.  He fought it.  He strained the bond.  And now something was broken.  It was wrong.  And it was his fault.  

* * *

 

She was plundering Google when he knocked on her door.  Plundering the deep dark recesses of Google to find out what to do if you and your soulmate didn’t work out.  

There was nothing.  Zip.  Zilch on the topic.  

There were lots of ads for soulmate counseling.  For retreats.  Getaways.  Time alone to spend with them and get to know them better.  

Pepper had even slid a brochure under her keyboard about Stark Industries’ Paid Time Off stipulations.  With the stipulations pertaining to soulmates highlighted and circled.  Apparently Darcy could get paid for taking a vacation to get to know Pietro.  

But she didn’t want to.  She just…

She wanted his voice out of her head.  She wanted the ache in her chest to go away.  And more than anything, she wanted his dumb words off her skin.  In the hurried shorthand.  Running down her inner thigh.  

She’d had them for as long as she could remember, and she’d always looked at them fondly.  Wondering what kind of man the universe had picked for her.  

And now?  Now she hurt all over.  Ached.  

She dreamed about him at night.  Horrible dreams.  

Dreams of loving words whispered against the very skin where his were etched.  Dreams that left a different sort of ache deep inside her.  Dreams that she hated because she wanted them more than anything.  

She knew there had to be some back alley something.  Some pill.  Some doctor who’d prescribe it to her.  

Tony and Bruce had created a man out of metal and an A.I.  Why on earth couldn’t someone, somewhere…erase her soulmate bond?  

The knock at her door startled her more than the papers that flew off her desk.  He was standing just outside, looking sufficiently sheepish and just as shitty as she probably did.  

She was going to tell him to go away.  The words were right there on the tip of her tongue.  

“Come in,” she said instead, gesturing for him to come closer. She minimized her search, closing her laptop screen as he closed the door to her office.  

Having him near…even across the desk made her feel better than she’d felt for days.  

And she realized something.  In that moment.  With him standing there across from her, looking like he hadn’t slept since they’d last spoken.  Looking like he wanted to reach for her, but he wasn’t because he didn’t think she wanted him to.  She realized why her extensive research had turned up nada.  

Because nobody actually wanted to erase their soulmate bond.  Nobody.

They might think they wanted to because they were hurt.  But nobody ever _really_ wanted to.  

That’s why there’d been no research done on the subject.  

“Darcy…I’m sorry.”  His voice, his words felt like a balm.  An ointment.  Soothing.    

She nodded.  “I know.”  

He looked surprised.  “You…know?”  

“I know,” she repeated.  

“I was angry at Clint. He was teasing me. I’m an asshole.  And I’m sorry that you’re linked to me.  I’m sorry I can’t be what you need.  I’m sorry those are my words on your skin.”  

“I’m not,” she countered.  “I’m not sorry about that.”  

* * *

 

They stood there, in her office, and talked for hours. And then…then they went to dinner in the city.  He sat beside her while she drove them there.  He watched her face.  Memorized its movements.  

He paid strict attention to what she was ordered.  How she asked for her cheeseburger to be a little pink in the middle.  How she asked for extra cheese and jalapeno peppers.  

“I don’t think that.  I didn’t even think that when I said it,” he blurted.

“Think what?” she frowned, taking another bite of her burger.  

“That you’re the last person I would willingly spend time with.”  

“Oh…” she set her burger down, reaching for a napkin.  “I should hope not.  Since we’re together now.  And there are an absolute plethora of other people here you could be spending time with.”  

“I didn’t think that before even…I just…I said it to make a point…Clint was teasing me and…” he trailed off.  “And none of this matters because it’s just me making up excuses for being horrible…”  

“I haven’t exactly been a peach…” Darcy admitted.  “I cut you out.  Wouldn’t let you apologize.  I think we can suffice it to say that we’re both immature brats who deserve each other…”  

He chuckled, shifting in the seat so he could take a bite of his burger.  He’d almost forgotten about it.  Which was saying something about his dinner companion.  Pietro loved to eat.  

“I’m sorry too, Pietro…” she reached across the table, grasping his hand.  And of course he had his mouth full of ground beef and couldn’t say anything for a few seconds.  He squeezed her hand reassuringly, though.  

And when he could talk, the words just came pouring out.  

He told her what he liked about her.  How that one stubborn piece of her hair always fell out of her ponytail or whatever, right down in her face.  He’d tucked it behind her ear a few times that day.  And he adored that piece of hair because it gave him a reason to touch her.  

He told her how impressive he thought she was.  How she worked with literal superheroes all day and how she took all their crap and turned it into something worthwhile.  

How beautiful she was.  He gushed and waxed poetic about her hair.  Her eyes.  Her lips.  How he wanted to kiss her, but he wasn’t sure how she’d handle it.  If she’d let him.  If she even wanted it.  

Darcy smiled.  “I’ve…I’ve been thinking about that too…about the kissing thing.  I…” she trailed off, her cheeks reddening.  “I think if you wanted to give it a shot, I think that’d be okay.”  

She squeaked when he appeared on the seat beside her, slipping around to the other side of the booth.  As if he were being pulled there. Like she was a magnet and he was metallic. He slipped his arms around her waist and pulled her close to his side, dipping his head down to press his lips against hers.  

He couldn’t think about anything but how good it felt to hold her.  About how it felt like pieces of him were sliding into place.  About how it felt like he was whole.  Finally.  Like he hadn’t ever been, but now he was.  

“Where have you been all my life, _Princeza_?”  

She grinned and tugged him closer.  “Kiss me again, you dork.”  

* * *

 

They walked from the burger place to her apartment.  

“See, I thought your apartment was at the complex…” Pietro said, his hand sliding down her arm to entwine with hers.

“I have one there.  I have one here in the city too. I also have one in DC and L.A….and Seattle.”  

“Wow.”  

She shrugged.  “Yeah…this job pays well…and I like to have familiar sheets to slide into when I’m traveling.”  

“Wow,” he repeated.  “I don’t have…anything.”  

“You could.  You have money now.”  

“Am I even a citizen? Don’t you have to be a citizen to buy property?”  

She laughed.  “You are one history test away from being a citizen.  You’re a legal resident right now.”  

He made a face.  “I am terrible at tests.”  

“Well, whenever you’re ready, I’ll help you study.  Unless you think that’s cramping your style too much…”  

“I don’t think that.  I mean…do you still want me to jump up my own ass and die?”  

She covered her face with her other hand.  “I’m so sorry for saying that.  I was hella mad at you.”  

“It’s really okay. I deserved it.  Even if I don’t know how to accomplish it…I deserved it.”  

They slowed in front of what turned out to be Darcy’s apartment building.  She waved hello to the doorman and led Pietro to the elevator.  

Her apartment was on the fourth floor, and she’d no sooner tugged him inside than she was kissing him again.

Kissing him…and pulling him back down the dark hallway, in he assumed, the direction of her bedroom.  

“Wait…” he stopped her, mentally kicking himself, but he had to say something.  “Wait…I don’t…I don’t deserve what you’re…what you’re attempting to give me.”  

She stopped, her hands sliding up his chest.  “Well, I guess with that argument, neither of us deserve it.”  

“No…Darcy…you deserve—”  

She shushed him.  “No, listen…here’s what I think…” Her fingers plucked at the jersey cotton of his t-shirt.  “I think… _you_ deserve it.  Because I’ve been horrible to you.  And…because I happen to have it on good authority that I’m _very_ good at what I do.” She bit her lip, her fingertips dragging across his collarbone, making him shiver slightly.  “And…” she continued.  “I think _I_ deserve it, because you were horrible to me.  And…because I have been having these dreams lately…about a certain part of your anatomy…” she dragged her thumbs over his bottom lip, quirking her eyebrow.  “ _Vibrating_ …and…I was wondering if that was something you could do?”  

Her breath was hitting his face and he leaned down to press his lips to hers again, flicking his tongue between them.  Vibrating it slightly over hers.  He ended the kiss with a pop.  “That is _definitely_ something I can do.”  

She inhaled raggedly, gripping fistfuls of his t-shirt and dragging him back towards her bedroom door.  

* * *

 

Pietro now knew that first impressions, while important, weren’t as important as second and third and fourth impressions.  That even in their world…their world where you knew your soulmate from the first sentence they spoke…there were still surprises to be had.  

He was probably well into triple digit impressions now with Darcy and he _loved_ her.  

Of course, he’d known that he loved her around impression number forty-five or so…

But it was impression number who-the-hell-cares that _cemented_ it.  

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [tumblr](http://dresupi.tumblr.com/)! 
> 
> I think this might call for a smutty sequel...what do you guys think?


End file.
